The Wonderful Wizard Of Hogsmeade?
by Avada Cruimperio
Summary: A flying house sends a confused and possibly stoned Harry into the Wizarding World, a strange land where Snape is the Good Witch of the North, Dumbledore lives in a talking head, and Harry accidentally killed Voldemort's sister. Oops.
1. I'll Get You, My Pretty, I Mean, Kid

**A/N: Hello! I'm here again with another new story. For those of you who know me from my other HP story, Making Friendship Bracelets For The Death Eaters, or my O.C story, Life Was Perfect or The Difference, there's really no need to introduce myself. To my new readers: Hi! I'm Avada Cruimperio, formerly dramaqueen825, also known as Marissa. I'm not sure if you all will like this story, but I do, so too bad. Review and tell me what you think!**

**Summary: Harry Potter parody of The Wizard Of Oz. A flying house sends a confused and possibly stoned Harry into the Wizarding World, a strange land where Snape is the Good Witch of the North, Dumbledore lives in a talking head, and Harry accidentally killed Voldemort's sister. Oops. Filled with my usual sarcastic humor. **

**Disclaimer: I own neither WoO or HP. Deal with it.**

**The Wonderful Wizard of... Hogsmeade?**

Chapter One: Are You A Good Wizard, Or A Bad Wizard?

Harry Potter was not having a good day. He was catsitting for Mrs. Figg while she was on vacation in Majorca, and the city's Animal Abuse Department had shown up when Uncle Vernon threw Mr. Tibbles out the window. Unfortunately, they thought the wretched furball was Harry's, so he had been fined 50 pounds. Like he even had fifty pounds! Some greasy black-hared git from the AAD had come to pick up the money today, and Harry had had to borrow from Uncle Vernon… It sucked that there wasn't a Human Abuse Department, for when Uncle Vernon had found that it was costing him more to keep the cat than it did for the whole summer for his nephew, Harry had found himself flying out the window.

Now, Uncle Vernon popped his head in through the cupboard door. "You! Boy! There's a tornado coming, so we're sending you off to walk to school like always and keeping Dudley home while we all cower in the basement."

"Naturally."

"All right then, go! We have to get the plot moving."

"Right." Harry grabbed his backpack, and headed off to school.

It was a lonesome walk to school, which was probably because everyone had enough sense not to send their kids to school when there was a tornado about three miles away. Harry shuffled his feet, and began to sing… in his head.

Suddenly, a tornado came whipping across the conveniently empty field across the street. "Oh, look!" Harry said. "A tornado. I guess I better run for it."

He sprinted away and jumped inside the nearest house, which was really stupid because the tornado was going to get him anyways. And I happen to know this because I write the story, therefore the 'nado is under my command. Bwahahahaha!

Harry sat, panting, in the kitchen of some random house that coincidentally was Mrs. Figg's, when (surprise!) the tornado came and lifted the house off the ground. Betcha didn't see that coming, did you?

Harry sat calmly in a kitchen chair, waiting for the tornado to drop him off somewhere. He had not suspected that, however, when they landed, Mrs. Figg's house would become a murderer.

_Thunk_. They had touched down.

Harry cautiously opened the front door, followed by Mr. Tibbles.

He heard a little laughing. He looked, startled, at Mr. Tibbles. "What was that?"

He looked around and finally noticed his surroundings, and, boy, was it different from home! There were wild flowers growing all over the place, in every color of the rainbow. Bright purple houses popped up everywhere, and gleaming silver buildings added a nice touch to the landscape.

"Mr. Tibbles, I don't think we're on Privet Drive anymore."

"Thank goodness." Mr. Tibbles remarked.

"Mr. Tibbles! You can talk!"

"Of course I can. I'm magical!"

"Pssh. There's no such thing as magic!" Harry scorned.

"Oh, shut up. You don't know anything."

Someone tapped Harry on the back. He turned around, and nearly had a heart attack.

Standing behind him was a man with sallow skin, long, greasy hair and a hooked nose. "Are you Harry Potter?" he drawled boredly.

"Y-yes." Harry stuttered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Snape, Good Wizard of the North. And you're Harry Potter, the reason why I was woken up at five o'clock in the morning and HAVEN'T HAD ANY COFEE YET!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry squeaked, terrified.

"And guess who has to clean up the mess you made of Munchkinland? I DO! Because stupid Janitorial Munchkin Filch is off doing business for the Wizard, la dee da, he's probably gone to wipe his boots."

"Er."

"My, aren't we intellectual? Anyway, I'd better this over with, because my soap's on in a few hours, and if I miss _As The Wizarding World Turns_, there'll be blood to pay." Snape cleared his throat. "Are you a good wizard, or a bad wizard?" the man asked.

"What the hell?"

"I said, are you a good wizard, or a bad wizard? It's not that difficult."

"Dude, I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm not a wizard." Harry answered.

"Harry, although you may disgrace the name of magic, like it or not, you're a wizard. So get with the program."

"I'm a wizard?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, if you're not, how did you get that house to kill Bellatrix Lestrange (God bless her soul)?"

And for the first time, Harry noticed a pair of small, dainty protruding from the house. "Holy crap! That chick's dead!"

"Don't feel bad, she was the second-evilest witch in history. And anyways, what we'd all like to know is if you're good or bad. Because if you're bad, I need to get the hell out of here. Dying is not on my To-Do list today."

"Geez, you old fart, I told you. I'm not a wizard. Wizards are old and ugly."

"I'm a wizard."

"Exactly."

Snape gave Harry the finger.

Harry head those stupid little giggles again. "What _is_ that?"

"Those are the house-elves. They're laughing because they think that me flipping you off is funny. Which it is." Snape flipped Harry off again.

"Oh. Sorry. Are all wizards ugly?"

"No."

"So I could be a good-looking wizard?"

"I guess. Except that you're not good-looking."

"Bastard. Anyways, what are house-elves?"

"The little people who used to be enslaved by the evil Bellatrix- she ruled this area. Welcome to Munchkin land."

"That doesn't make sense. Shouldn't it be called House-elf Land?"

"Well, if you knew _anything_ about _anything_, you would know that the house-elves are descendants of the Munchkins."

"Whatever."

"Anyways, so, elves! You can come out and meet Harry, although I have no idea why you'd want to."

Slowly, one by one, then two by two, five by five, and ten by ten, little tiny… _elves_… crept out from where they were hiding. They were hideous little creatures, with huge ears and potato sacks for clothes.

One elf threw himself at Harry's feet. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir, you killed the evil Bellatrix and freed us! Dobby thanks you, sir, thank you!"

But the other elves were looking at him with… hate?

"You killed Mistress Bellatrix!" one ugly little one sobbed. "Kreacher loved Mistress Bellatrix, she was so good to him, oh yes…"

Another elf was drinking out of a vodka bottle, and hiccupping. "Mistress Bella is telling Winky all her secrets, yes she is…"

Harry looked nervous. "These elf-dudes seemed to really like that old lady. Are you sure she's dead?"

"Do you know anyone that survived a house falling on their heads?"

"No, I guess not."

BOOM

Another man had appeared- this time, though, he was a lot scarier than Snape. And that's saying something. He had a snakelike face, with a nearly flat nose and slits for nostrils.

"I thought you said she was dead."

"Idiot, he is. Does this look female to you? This is Voldemort, the other Wizard. He's worse than the one you killed."

At the mention of his name, Voldemort looked furious. "How many times have I told you, it's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Snape glared at him. "Don't get me pissed, Voldemort. I haven't had my coffee yet."

Voldemort merely ignored him. "Who was it? Who killed my Death Eater? Was it you, boy?" He pointed one thin finger at Harry.

"Dude, it was an accident. Chill out."

"I'll kill your parents for this!"

"You already did that." Snape noted.

"Oh. Yes. Anyways, WHERE ARE THEY? Where are the ruby slippers?"

Harry looked down at his feet, and discovered that, to his disgust, Dudley's old Nikes were not on him. He was wearing a pair of shiny red high-heels.

"GET THESE OFF OF ME!"

Snape sighed, and with a flick of his wand, the slippers had been transformed into some into some lovely leather loafers. Say that one five times fast.

"Give me them!" Voldemort screamed.

"Nah. There they are, and there they'll stay."

Voldemort scowled. "I'll be watching you, Potter, and you just try to stay out of my way… I'll get you, my pretty-er, kid, and your little cat, too!"

"It's not mine!" Harry protested, but Voldemort had already disappeared.

"Wow. Guess Voldemort hates you." Snape remarked. "You should probably get out of Munchkinland, actually it'd be good to leave the Wizarding World altogether."

"How can I get home?" Dudley's old oversized sweaters and cleaning the kitchen six times a day were looking pretty good compared with a crazy old magic guy that wanted to kill him over a pair of pumps.

"I dunno. The person who might know is the great and wonderful Wizard of Hogsmeade himself!"

"Good wizard or bad wizard?" Sheesh, did everyone get that question asked around here?

"He's good, but rather... eccentric. He lives in Hogsmeade-"

"No shit."

"-which is like, a gazillion miles from here. Did you bring your Nimbus?"

"Er… no."

"Then you've gotta walk. Ha ha!"

"That sucks."

"Yeah. So you've gotta walk. The Yellow Brick-Foam will take you right there."

Harry uncertainty stepped on the path. It was made out of a combination of brick and Styrofoam. It seemed to crack under his feet.

"Geez, kid, how much do you weigh?" Snape asked.

"I'm malnourished, thank you very much!" Harry shot back.

"You keep telling yourself that…" Snape muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." A loud beeping noise was heard. Snape cursed and pulled something out of his pocket. "I've gotta go. Mundungus Fletcher's out impersonating the Wizard _again_…" And with a puff of smoke, he disappeared.

Harry glanced warily at the house-elves, who were looking quite anxious for him to get a move on. "Are you sure that the road won't collapse under my feet?"

"No, sir, we is quite sure it is stable!" squeaked little Dobby, but the other elves weren't as polite.

"Who cares? Get out of Munchkinland, you filthy half-blood!" Kreacher snarled.

Harry held out his hands. "All right, I'm going. Geez."

And with that, he disappeared down the Yellow Brick-Foam, it crunching and crackling under his feet.

**A/N: So? What did you all think? If you guys don't like it, I won't put up another chapter, I guess… For those of you who read my other story, Making Friendship Bracelets With The Death Eaters, you know that I'm a total review whore. So, review! Tell me whether you liked it, hated it, flushed it down the toilet…**


	2. Meeting Ron and Psychic Cat Powers

**A/N: Eek! I totally forgot to credit kyer with the idea of Snape as Glinda. Kyer, I'm sooooooooooooo sorry! It totally slipped my mind. Also, since you have such good ideas for this story, but I always get them after I write the chapter, you should email me them. Actually, anyone can email me suggestion if they want. I think my e-mail's in my profile, but if it's not, it's partytime509 comcast . net. Take out the spaces. And the period after net. And add an at symbol after the partytime509.**

The Yellow Brick-Foam was starting to dangerously crackle under Harry's feet when he stopped to rest. All he had had to eat for the last three days was Styrofoam, so he had been eyeing Mr. Tibbles with hunger for the last twenty-four hours.

"My God," Harry said, slumping down onto the road, which cracked ominously. "It's been so long without food or water!" He glanced around his surroundings. "And look! The foam goes in two directions! I'll never get back to Privet Drive."

"I thought you hated it there." Mr. Tibbles said. He had slunk away when Harry had began thinking out loud on whether fried or sautéed cat tasted better.

"I do. But they at least give me food. It's better than packing supplies!" He ripped out a handful of the road and chucked it at a scarecrow.

"Bitch."

"Mr. Tibbles!"

The cat looked puzzled. "I didn't say anything."

"You called me a bitch!"

"No, he didn't. I did."

Harry looked around wildly. "What's going on?"

The voice sighed. "Look to your left- no, your other left- yes, very good."

"I'm looking at the scarecrow." Harry felt incredibly stupid talking to the apparently disembodied voice.

"Exactly."

"The scarecrow's talking to me?" Harry asked.

"I do have a name, you know. I think." The scarecrow shrugged as best as one could if their arms were tied to a pole.

"Okay… so what's your name?"

The scarecrow furrowed his brow, trying desperately to remember. "Bob… no. Susie? Maybe, I'm getting closer."

Mr. Tibbles had been watching a roly-poly chase an ant. "Run!" he screamed at the ant.

"Run! Yes, that's my name! No, wait for it- _Ron_!" The scarecrow grinned proudly.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"No offense or anything," Harry began hesitantly, "but uh, you don't seem, uh, well let's just say that you don't seem like the sharpest crayon in the pack, if you get my gist."

Ron frowned. "I don't get it. Of course, that could be because I don't have a brain-"

"Neither does my cousin," Harry assured him.

"No, I'm serious. I've got no brain. Like, inside my head, there's just straw."

"Oh," Harry said awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it."

"Anyways, so how's life up there on the stake?" Harry asked.

"What he means is, how is life without a brain?" the cat clarified.

"Pretty crappy."

"Ooh! Ooh! I know! Why don't you come to Hogsmeade with me? There's this Wizard dude who's like, magical, and can get you a brain!" Harry suggested.

Ron grinned. "Wicked!"

Harry remembered that Ron was tied to a pole. "Um, I'll get you down," he said, pulling on one of the ropes. Ron fell to the ground and landed with a spectacular thud.

"So…"

"So…"

"What are you going to do once you get a brain?" Harry asked.

"I dunno. Think?" Ron suggested.

Harry laughed. "It's overrated. So is talking, mind you. When I came here, it gave this stupid cat the power to talk, and now he never shuts up."

"Oh, look," Mr. Tibbles said casually. "I do believe I have peed on your shoe. How careless of me!"

Harry scowled at the feline and wiped his shoe on the foam, and, in the process, he noticed a big black crow had landed on the road next to them.

"Ron, go scare it away," Harry ordered. "Those birds scare the crap out of me."

Ron turned bright red. "Um…"

"Come on."

"Fine. Oi, you! Get away, you great filthy beast! Go back to where you, er, came from!" Ron shouted.

The crow laughed. "You don't scare me. You've got spattergroit!"

"They're freckles!" Ron shouted indignantly.

"Yeah, well, makes you look ugly!" the crow shot back.

"You're the ugly one! You're fat!"

"Yeah, well, you don't even have brains!"

"Your face is so ugly, it makes me wanna barf!" Ron gritted his teeth

"Yeah, well, your mum is so poor that she had to put you on layaway to get you!"

Ron's ears flamed. "Shut up! Shut up about my mum!"

The crow laughed and flew away.

"You're not a very good scarecrow." Harry commented.

Ron told him to go do something that fanfiction would kill me for writing since this is PG-13.

"Now, really!" Mr. Tibbles said huffily. "We do not use that kind of language around here!"

"Go shove it, Tibbles," the boys replied in unison.

"Erm, I've got to warm you about something." Harry told Ron. "See, there's this dude, Voldemort-"

Ron looked horrified. "You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah, I know who. Vold-"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Ron amended.

"That's what he said, too! But I didn't get it…"

"Calling him by his _real_ name is just not something people do."

"Well, Glin-er, Snape did."

"Only like, really brave people do."

"I'm brave!"

"Tch, yeah right. Didn't you just say a crow scared the crap out of you?" Mr. Tibbles snorted.

Harry kicked him. "Anyways, so, this dude's, like, after me."

"Like how?"

"He wants to kill me."

"Why?"

"I stole his minion's ballet shoes."

Ron looked at his feet. "Dude, those aren't ballet shoes."

"They _were_."

"Eesh. Sorry bout that."

"Thanks. So, anyways, if you want to, like, not go with me, I'll understand."

"Nah, I really want a brain. And if I see You-Know-Who, I'll just run."

"K."

"Alright."

"So, um… where do I go?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. Let's go left."

"No, let's go right."

"Left!"

"Right!"

"LEFT!"

"RIGHT!"

"Oh, for God's sake," Mr. Tibbles said, rolling his eyes. "If you look straight ahead you can perfectly well see Hogsmeade."

"And your point is…?"

"We go straight."

"How do you know?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"My psychic cat powers." Mr. Tibbles said sarcastically.

"Wow! You have psychic cat powers?" Ron asked. "Can I have some?"

"If you say the magic words."

"What are they?"

"Ahem. Repeat after me. _I am a bloody idiot who wishes to become feline_."

"Feline? I don't want to be a girl!"

"That's _female_, you imbecile!"

"Oh. _I am a bloody idi-_Hey!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You know, I don't think you really do have psychic cat powers!"

"Oh, drat. You've found me out."

"Oh, shut up. Ron, shall we skip off down the Yellow Brick-Foam, then?" Harry asked, extending his arm.

"But of course!" The boys linked arms and skipped down the path, Mr. Tibbles following behind with a disgusted look on his face.

**A/N: Review! I love you all!**


	3. LOOK AT ME AND MY SADNESS!

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, guys. I've been having huge writer's block on this one. Also, there are quite a few people who have said they're read this, but they haven't reviewed. People who review _rock_. I love my reviewers. You should review. :nods:**

LOOK AT ME AND MY SADNESS!

Harry and Ron skipped down the Yellow Brick-Foam, followed by an aggravated Mr. Tibbles. His paws were so sore from walking (and his current diet hadn't helped either- speaking of diets, it really was time for him to go on one. Someone as important and valued as he should really be quick on their toes…), and that stupid Potter brat hadn't let them rest from a day now. His poor feet, oh what Mrs. Figg was going to do to that terror of a child when they got back to Privet Drive…

Harry noticed a bunch of apple trees lining the sides of the road. "Mm! Apples! I'm so hungry!"

Mr. Tibbles nearly wept with joy. He hadn't eaten anything but Styrofoam for the last six days.

Ron began to sing in delight. "Food, glorious food! Hot sausage and mustard! While we're in the mood-"

"You're_ done_." Mr. Tibbles glared at him.

"Sorry."

Harry reached for an apple, when-

"Yo! Who do you think you're playin', yo? Them apples ain't yours, foo'!" the apple tree yelled.

Harry looked startled. "Did an apple tree just talk to me?"

"Damn straight we did! And those are _our_ apples, yo. They's don't belong to you, ya hear me?"

Ron stuck his nose up. "Well, we don't want any of _your _apples anyways?"

"Whatchoo sayin', yo? You sayin' that my apples ain't good enough for you!"

"Listen, "homey J"," Mr. Tibbles began.

"It's homie G," Harry whispered.

"Sorry. Listen, homie G, we're just saying that we aren't as hungry as we thought…dude." Mr. Tibbles said awkwardly.

"You wanna mess? Huh? That what you want?" the tree shouted. "Let's battle!"

"No, no, no." Harry said immediately.

"What, foo'? You afraid to rap?"

"What? Afraid? Dream on."

Mr. Tibbles groaned. "We're leaving. Now."

"But-" Harry began.

"I am _not_ listening to you rap with a _tree_!"

The tree, however, had put on a menacing face and was moving its branches closer and closer to the group. Ron and Harry slowly backed away, followed by Mr. Tibbles, when-

"Mmmpph!"

"What was that?" Harry asked. He spun around and saw-

"Ron! Look! It's a girl!"

And it was, indeed, a girl. Dressed in a school uniform and carrying stack of heavy books, the bushy haired student was frozen in place, a look of fright on her face.

"I think this is hers," Ron said, picking up a fallen book and stacking it on the pile.

Immediately, the girl unfroze.

"Oh, thank you ever so much, I've been here for ages, I was walking home from school one day and a boggart jumped out at me, imagine that! Naturally, I saw myself failing all my classes, so I dropped some books, and something ever so odd happened, I froze, and I've been like that ever since! I can't thank you enough for saving me. I'm Hermione Granger, who are you?"

"You talk a lot." Ron noted.

"Well, _I'm_ Master Tibbleochesus the Third-"

"Mr. Tibbles-" Harry amended.

"-and these rude, ignorant boys are Harry and Ron."

"Oh! I'm so glad to meet you! Did you know that the sun is 92,955,820.5 miles or 149,597,892 kilometers away from the sun?"

"Er…" Harry and Ron said together.

"I just love school, I simply adore it, it's ever so fun!"

"Oh. We'll just be going, then…"

Hermione's eyes welled up. "Y-you're leaving?"

"Uh…" Harry said intelligently.

Hermione burst into tears.

"We'll write!" Ron explained.

Her sobs grew louder.

"Oh, for heavens sake," Mr. Tibbles said with an air of superiority. "Don't you two know _anything_?"

"I don't." Ron reminded him.

"Can't you see this girl desperately wants to join you two on your excursion to Hogsmeade?"

"I am not desperate!" Hermione loudly blew her nose on a handkerchief.

"What does excursion mean?" Ron asked.

"A going out or forth:** EXPEDITION** **b **(1): a usually brief pleasure trip," Hermione rattled off.

"And you want us to take her with?" Harry said incredulously.

Hermione shrieked and began ferociously weeping again.

"But she doesn't have a reason to come!" Harry called over the deafening racket of Hermione's weeping.

"Yes, I do!" It was miraculous, Ron thought, how she was able to cry and stop crying whenever she wanted.

"Why should you come to Hogsmeade with us?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's a long story. It all began on a dark and stormy night-"

"Let's just hear the short version." Harry hurriedly suggested.

"All right. Well," Hermione took in a deep breath. "There's something about me that you don't know, and it's going to be a shock to you. But I want to get rid of it! That's what I have to ask the Wizard for!"

"What is it?"

"This is going to be very surprising to you. You may pass out. I don't think you could know it from just talking to me."

"Do you have herpes?" Harry asked.

"No, I do not have herpes!" Hermione said huffily. "It's… well, I guess I'll come right out and say it. I," she took a deep breath, "am a nerd."

"No. Way." Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione, apparently, didn't pick up on sarcasm very well. "I know. It's pretty tough to believe, isn't it? You'd never know from just looking at me."

Harry eyed Hermione's bushy hair, large teeth, and stack of books. "Wouldn't have a clue."

"Anyways, we'd better get going, because, you know, this wood that were in isn't very safe at night, due to the very cold temperatures that can reach up to negative forty degrees Fahrenheit! Gabriel Fahrenheit was born in Gdańsk, Germany in 1686 to…"

Ron and Harry soon learned to tune Hermione's endless factual droning out, and as they trudged along the Yellow Brick-Foam, they converesed in low whispers, occasionaly stealing a glance at Hermione, who was now explaining how the theory of relativity was created to Mr. Tibbles, who was looking like he was having seconds thoughts about inviting her along.

"I don't like her!" Harry hissed.

"Hermion'es such a know-it-all!" Ron said a bit too loudly.

"Shh! She'll hear you!" Harry warned.

But it was too late.

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhh!" Hermione screeched, throwing herself on the roan and beating the ground with her fists. "Everybody hates me!"

"No surprise there."

"_Ron_!" Mr. Tibbles reprimanded.

"WAHHHHHH! I'M SO SAD! LOOK AT ME AND MY SADNESS! I'M INCREDIBLY SAD!"

"What do you say we leave her there?" Ron suggested.

Hermione screamed even louder, if possible, and Harry noticed a small river of tears forming in the area around her face.

"WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME?" she screamed.

"WHY? WHY WHY?"

"Maybe it's because you throw temper tantrums like mad." Ron said.

Hermione looked up. "Really? You think so?"

"Mmm-hmm. That and the random facts every fifteen seconds."

"Oh. I didn't know that bothered you. Sorry."

"S'okay."

Hermione stood up and brushed the leaves out of her hair. "Shall we keep going, then?"

"Great." Ron said, and Harry offered Hermione his arm. She looked at him like he was crazy.

"What's that for?"

"Well, usually we link arms and skip off down the road." Harry explained.

"You do that, then."

"Alright!" Harry and Ron linked arms and skipped off down the road.

"Pity they're insane. They've got evreything else going for them, you know. Looks. Manners. Charm." Mr. Tibbles said.

"Great," Hermione muttered. "I'm stuck with two retarded boys and a gay cat. This trip will be _loads_ of fun."

"Won't it?" Mr. Tibbles said brightly.

**Selected reviewer responses: **

**Kyer: You probably won't read this, as it's taken me 20 days to update and I'm sure you've long forgotten about this, but anyways I'm responding to your review. I'm going by the 1930's movie, since a ton more people have read that than the book- which I have read, by the way, thank you very much. I loved your idea for the Death Eater/flying monkey bit, and your poppyfield idea. I kind of mentally added on to thtat, so instead of Snape just going ****"They're insert scientific name of poppies here, you dunderheads!", Hermione shouts back that Snape pronounced it wrong, and they have a little argument over that. **

** Turiya Foul: I do NOT smell of goat. LOL, I love Happy Bunny. **

**blueskiezrusty: I'm glad you liked it. BTW, I got the joke from in case you wanted more funny your mom jokes. **

**Me: That is a _beautiful_ song. **

**ForeverShia: Thanks! I feel so loved by everyone, LOL. I'm glad that my fanfics make you happier. That's my job. **

**For everyone who complained last time about the wait: I am so sorry. I promise that it will NEVER happen again. I feel terrible :(. **


End file.
